


Catharsis

by najaeri



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, M/M, Physical Abuse, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Romance, Slice of Life, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/najaeri/pseuds/najaeri
Summary: San is a psychiatrist who specialized in anxiety, bipolarity, and depression. Wooyoung is a writer fragmented in four. They should have never met.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Kang Yeosang
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic was posted in AFF as a YunJae (Yunho x Jaejoong). It was also uploaded previously in AO3 with the previous pairing as well, but I have deleted it to upload this version instead, and here it will be WooSan (San x Wooyoung). All copyrights to me. Thank you!
> 
> Also, this fanfic is very heavy-themed. It includes a lot of abuse, neglect, rape, etc. If you feel vulnerable, please, do not read it. Your mental health is more important.

“So, your sister is finally coming?” casually asked Yunho to San, who was beside him with a notepad in hand as they walked in the lengthy hospital hall.

“Yeah,” he answered back, his glasses being accommodated by his left hand. “My mom already knows and she is excited.”

“I bet,” replied the youngest with a smile on his face. “How long has it been again?”

“Four years,” were his words, briefly greeting one of the nurses passing by. “But it comes with her job. She is a Foreign Service Officer and changes her position every year so, it is difficult for her.”

“And for you too,” he said, abruptly stopping as he heard the intercom surrounding the area.

“H101, H101, we have a patient in crisis.”

“Guess it’s my turn,” said San, giving his notes to his boss. “I’ll be in the office later.”

“Sure,” was all he managed to say before the other started running towards the psychiatric emergency.

San switched his mind back to the doctor's mode. The thoughts of handling the crisis came first than anything. It was stressing and sometimes he admired himself for coping with unstable people, but it was truly his call. It was his passion and he would not change anything. It was his third year in the department and it never failed to amaze him. One thing he has learned and has always kept in mind was that the brain was a powerful tool.

It could either make you or destroy you.

"Symptoms?" was his first question as he watched the patient scratch his skin, the blood covering him while he cried and screamed at anyone who tried to touch him.

"He says he was infected by pathogens," explained the nurse, the other four trying to tie him down. "He has a history of hallucinations and generalized anxiety disorder."

"I see," he answered. "Give him a dose of Buspirone to call down his anxiety and then, transfer him to room 9. I will check his history and talk to him for a bit when he reacts to his environment."

"Yes, Dr. Choi," was the nurse response while the patient still fought against the nurses. He decided to help them, making his job a bit easier.

"NO!" he screamed, battling with the people around him. He was shaking and felt the itchiness covering his entire body more than ever. It was their fault, to begin with, that he was in this situation! "You guys infected me! IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"And since we did, we are trying to take responsibility for it," answered San, finally controlling the patient. “We will take care of it,” were his final words before the nurses run with the stretcher.

San sighed.

And hours passed just like that in front of his eyes.

At the end of this shift, he smiled at everyone. They were as tired as him and sometimes, they dealt with more things than he did. He could not imagine his world without nurses. It would be extremely exhausting and maybe, he would not even be able to handle it.

As he walked outside of the psychiatric warden, he took off his white coat and laid it over his arms. He took out his car keys, opened the doors, and threw them on the passenger’s seat. He closed his door and took a moment just to debrief. He only needed to take a deep breath. It wasn’t easy, but it was his career choice. He decided to help those who were shattered and that people couldn’t recognize.

He would never say that a physical disability was worse than a mental one, but people judged mostly those ghosts they could not see.

The psychiatric smiled, starting the engine and he was about to leave when he heard a very familiar tone surrounding his area. He took it immediately, knowing it was an emergency.

“I was about to leave,” he answered, not daring to move from his spot.

“Kiara escaped,” he heard the other said followed by a sigh and the doctor could not help but laugh.

“This has been what, the eight-time?” inquired San, coming out of his car and bringing his white coat back with him. It seemed that his schedule would be extended. No one was allowed to go out or come in when a patient was missing.

“It seems like millions for me,” were his boss’ words, hearing at a very far distance the people running behind the lead psychiatric. “Every time she does something, we need to place everyone in lockdown. This is a unlock facility, yet she makes it harder.”

“It comes with the mental illness,” he responded, but could not finish his sentence as he heard closely behind him, another person asking 'where are you?'.

He stood quietly, but his steps remained to move forward. He did not want to turn to see who it was, but neither his curiosity was letting him live. He liked the sound of that voice. It was soothing and even comforting. But there was an emergency happening and he needed to speed up. He had no time to deliberate.

He continued to walk forward until he felt a pull from someone. The person who turned him around was looking at him with such strength, San felt his insides revolting. For the first time in years, he felt scared.

But everything went away when he heard his voice. He stood quietly, the voice he wanted to follow was resounding, this time closer to him.

“He’s here,” he mouthed out and the psychiatric arched an eyebrow, not quite understanding the situation. “I found him.”

San was extremely curious. He really wanted to know why the stranger was directing those words towards him when he has never seen the guy in his entire life. But his question went completely unanswered as he saw a running person coming straight to them, grabbing the other person’s hand in a gentle, but strong way.

“Win,” he heard the pitched voice directing himself towards the stranger. San didn’t comment on anything, but he wasn’t going to leave that easily. After all, he wanted to see what could happen next.

“Don’t call my name,” responded the stranger, violently shaking the other. The newcomer almost fell due to the blunt force, but he maintained himself with his feet on the ground. “You don’t have any right to.”

“Please, let’s discuss this later, yes?” San saw the newcomer begging, his pitched voice increasing as time passed. He seemed really desperate.

“No,” answered Win, his eyes coming back at the psychiatrist. “I’m not leaving after finding him.”

“He doesn’t know who you are,” tried to reason the newcomer, but he watched the infuriated man pushing the other far from him.

“I don’t care,” responded Win and San knew he needed to intervene.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, but it was too late. Some bodyguards were coming towards them, forcefully coming to grab the violent stranger. They began to battle against each other and he was about to interfere, but the high-pitched man prevented him from doing so.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but there’s nothing else I can say,” he said, immediately giving him his card. “We will talk about costs later. Thank you!” were his last words before he left the parking lot, following the black-suited men.

“What… did just happen?” he said to himself, completely dumbfounded at the situation. He knew he shouldn’t care, but he was a hundred percent sure that those words came out of nowhere. That Win guy knew what he was talking about.

San sighed, knowing it was better if he just left and attended the emergency right away. This took up too much of his time and at that moment, it was dispensable. He was needed.

But he knew he wasn’t going to be able to forget the incident that quickly.


	2. Nature

“So, you are telling me that a guy just looked at you and his words were _‘I found him’_?” asked the director, followed by a big ramen slurp. They finally could find where Kiara after a couple of hours and they decided to eat something before heading back home.

“Yeah,” was his answer, eating his noodles little by little. He was not as hungry as Yunho, but he surely didn’t want to starve. His mom was out in Jeju Island visiting her family and even though he could not be part of the trip, he wished them well. He had to admit that he missed his mom, but she deserved it. She was one year away from retirement and she couldn’t be happier.

And he, he was barely beginning his life.

“Okay, that sounds extremely weird,” confessed Yunho, opening his third ramen bowl. “And he was also extremely aggressive?”

“It seemed like it,” related the psychiatrist, drinking a bit of his water bottle. “But it also looked like the people around him were used to it. He gave me a card and talked about price,” he said, his shoulders shrugging at the same time.

“Maybe he’s a chaebol and he’s trying to hide a disease,” commented the director, earning a scoff from the youngest.

“Yunho, stop watching dramas with Yeosang,” responded San, shaking his head shortly after.

“Well, they are fun,” was his answer, smiling a bit. “The only thing I don’t like is that Yeosang is a cry-baby and is always crying. He sees someone dying, he cries. He sees a dog in pain, he cries. Heck, he sees a mosquito annoying the protagonists and he cries. He must have issues.”

“He has the same issues you have when you eat!” he shouted, defending his other friend. They weren’t as close as he was with Yunho, but they made an excellent pair. They complimented each other so well and it made him happy. He enjoyed seeing his friends having fun in life and that enough made him accomplished.

After all, he doesn’t know what love is. The only similar thing he has experienced is his mother’s love and still, it made him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t know why, but it has always been the same way since he was younger. He wished he could do something about it.

“Talking about eating,” said Yunho, putting his ramen bowl beside him. “When are you coming to my house? Yeosang has been nagging me non-stop to get your ass over. I tell him you are a bit workaholic but he doesn’t care. He still wants you to come.”

“Let’s plan for next weekend,” answered San with a smile on his face. “Call?”

“Call,” replied Yunho, feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket. He immediately took it out and smiled when he saw the name on the screen. “Talking about Yeo, take it,” he offered his phone for the other. “Greet him and I’ll throw our things into the trash. I guess he came out of work and wants to know where I am at,” were his last words before he took some of the things with him.

San pressed the green button and put the phone on his ear, holding back his laugh when Yeosang began to spit out things that sounded very much like him.

_“Hey, you good for nothing piece of a godly man, where are you?! Don’t tell me you are eating ramen because I’ll smack your face against the damn table! How many times I have to tell you that shit is bad for you! But like always, you never listen! You are going to die young, just watch it!”_

“Hi, Yeosang,” he could finally say, a chuckle escaping his lips.

 _“WHY DO YOU SOUND SO COLD?! WHAT THE…”_ the person in the other line paused, realizing the greeting was not from his boyfriend, but from another person whose voice was extremely familiar. _“San?”_

“Yup,” he responded, his right ear almost bleeding when he heard a very enthusiastic shriek.

 _“AHHH OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU?!”_ asked Yeosang, his tone of voice changing completely. San chuckled at his reaction but did not say anything. _“When are you coming?!?! I will not accept a no for an answer. I will drag your ass here.”_

“I already told Yunho to plan next week,” was the psychiatrist's reply.

 _“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”_ screamed Yeosang, making the youngest put the cell phone far from his ears. If he wanted to keep them intact, it was more than necessary.

However, San did not place the earpiece back. He saw a very familiar figure coming inside the store and he arched an eyebrow. Without any explanation, he gave the cell phone to Yunho, who viciously accepted it and began to shout in a friendly way to his partner, not taking into consideration neither noticing San’s change of attitude.

San began to walk towards the newcomer. The latter was focused on choosing something to drink, but he needed to be quick. He didn’t want to be seen and he already caused a lot of trouble a couple of hours ago. He wasn’t ready to cause another scene.

The psychiatric was near the man, he was trying to figure out when he saw this person. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew the sense of familiarity was there. He squinted his eyes a bit, swallowing a gasp when the newcomer looked at something else, his face known to the world.

Win?

San remembered the name like there was no tomorrow. It made quite an impact on him and he knew it would remain close to his remainders for a long time. After all, it was the very first time that a person looked at him and said shocking words, deemed to be remembered for the rest of his life.

He wanted to call him, but when the newcomer saw he was looking, his eyes were different.

And he noticed right away.

Dealing with patients every day who could be alright one day and extremely dangerous another, was like a trigger. Simply by looking into his eyes, he could see if they were mad, sad, angry, happy, yearning, and even lustful. But his eyes were relating a different story.

A story he didn’t want to know.

San immediately turned around and left to his previous spot, hearing how his best friend still chatted with his partner. He felt the other’s eyes on his back, nailing him stronger every step he took away, but he wasn’t going to stop.

He needed to reach Yunho.

He suddenly stopped, carefully placing his trembling and sweaty hands on top of the table. Yunho immediately noticed this and asked Yeosang to pick both of them up, his tone of voice changing at the speed of light.

“San, breathe,” he told him in a desperate attempt to keep him alert. Those scenarios definitely didn’t happen often, but something triggered San. Although he wasn’t his personal doctor, he was the closest person to him and he knew everything he needed in order to prevent prolapse.

San tried to follow Yunho’s words, but they were too far from his reach. All he heard were those strange voices eating him inside, telling him how worthless and loveless he was. They were screwing him around, enough for him to fall on the floor. He wasn’t listening to anything and he surely did not remember how he appeared on the couch hours later with Yeosang’s face full of dried tears and a solemn Yunho talking over the phone.

But at the other side of the convenience store, Hongjoong heard the passenger’s seat being opened, a very concerned friend of his stepping inside the car.

“I saw a lot of people coming in, concern written all over their faces,” began Hongjoong. It was the only way to get information and he knew his friend appreciated it. He was too shy and too secretive to tell him what he felt.

“Someone fainted,” began to explain the newcomer, handling the blue Gatorade to Hongjoong. “His friends seemed very concerned and the guy on the floor was hyperventilating. I left as soon as the cashier was able to scan my things,” he sighed but continued. “It wasn’t a big scene, but my anxiety flew off the roof. It just reminds me of myself.”

“It’s okay,” said Hongjoong with a faint smile decorating his face. “He won’t come back that easily. You are stronger every day.”

“I know,” he sighed, his back hitting the comfortable chair while the other pressed on the gas pedal. “I’m just afraid of him taking over again…”

“But, you understand that it has been months since he appeared, right?” convinced him Hongjoong, stopping at a red light nearby. “It has been the longest being alone.”

“Something is telling me that otherwise,” he answered, his eyes losing themselves in the bright moonlight. “He wants to be me.”

Hongjoong sighed.


	3. Filth

“How are you feeling?” asked Yeosang to San, taking his hands into his. The psychiatrist appreciated the warmth he gave. It was like a mixture of cinnamon and vanilla that made you feel stupidly in love. He certainly didn’t feel the same way as Yunho did, but Yeosang was a blessing in everything he did. He was perfection to no end and he was glad to have him as a friend.

“Better,” he answered as plain as he could. He wasn’t lying, but he hoped that both of his friends would stop worrying about him that much. His panic attacks happened more often than he wanted to admit and his medication helped to control them. He was sure he took them, like usual, but he can’t say why he went through a phase he hasn’t gone into for more than five years. He doesn’t even remember what put him into that situation.

And asking was not going to give him an answer.

Yunho protects him like gold and he would go through hell if something happened to him. Yes, he was his boss but he was his friend first.

“When Yunho told me to pick him up, I knew it was you,” alerted Yeosang while the other smiled. “He never tells me to pick him up. He’s a douche.”

“I am,” both of them heard the psychiatrist's response. “I don’t want you to drive when I have my own car.”

“You can just leave it,” replied Yeosang, receiving a kiss on his forehead.

“Your doctor will come,” explained Yunho, hearing a sigh from San. “I know, but he needs to check you. You know I can’t…”

“I know, I know,” he said. It would be so much easier if Yunho could treat him. He felt comfortable, at ease, but all he could do was listening. He couldn’t give an opinion, he couldn’t give his advice as a professional, just as a friend and he knew it was hard for the other as hard it was for him, too. The other wanted to help and he just wanted to be cured.

But it’s not easy. Life was difficult and he was just one in millions suffering just like he was.

“But, if it makes you comfortable, he allowed both of us to stay,” announced Yunho, making the other smile. “I expect him at any moment.”

And just as he said those words, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll go,” said Yeosang, stepping out of the room. They needed a bit of time alone before San’s doctor came inside.

“It was him, right?” asked Changmin right away, receiving a nod from Yunho. “Do you think that it might have to be with your past?”

“I’m sure,” was his response, trying to be as natural as possible. The least he wanted was his psychiatrist persona to come out. It wasn’t needed at this moment. He was a patient that needed to deal with his demons and the other was his unconditional friend. He needed to be as real as he could. “I didn’t feel anything at first, I was plain curious. The second time was completely different and it seemed like he recognized me.”

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” was all he could say before he heard the door being opened, the doctor greeting everyone inside the room to quickly sat down in front of San, his interview beginning.

Yunho stood back to a corner of the room, feeling Yeosang’s hands giving him the strength he needed. He was devastated. He could do so much more but yet, he couldn’t. He was his friend and boss. He couldn’t be his psychiatrist as well.

The older felt the tears falling from his eyes and his lover wiping them away, followed by lovely kisses.

Yunho had the comfort, San had no one.

And that broke his heart.

+++

Win was sitting down on the couch, surrounded by persons he clearly disliked. He wanted to be in control, not being controlled. But after thinking for a couple of minutes, there was no way he could get away. He knew they were afraid of him and he could easily do a scene, but once he was inside that damned house, there was no escape. The way it was designed prevented him from doing what he wanted.

That’s why he hated being caught.

No matter what other people said to him, this body was his and no one else’s.

“Keep the door vigilant,” was all Hongjoong said, sitting down in front of Win. The latter simply chuckled at him, looking at him like he was a piece of garbage.

Hongjoong sighed. He was used to it and he knew it wasn't the actual owner of the body. It was someone else and they despised each other. However, he was the only one who could control the situation and he was there to do exactly that. Nothing more and nothing else.

“You are fully aware that until I die, I’m never going to let you do whatever you want, right?” were the youngest’ words. They were full of security, but also full of pain.

Win had the capability to destroy him, but he was smarter than him. Even though his threats were always done in a certain way to control the beast, he never complied with them. If Win really wanted to hurt him, he knew exactly and how to strike, but he would never do something to the body that yielded him.

“You are just bullshitting me,” was his answer, a smirk covering his face while his body moved forward; closer to the other. “You are as worthless as your words.”

“You know it doesn’t affect me,” was Hongjoong’s answer, not letting his words hurt him like before. After all, that was not the true persona he liked. He was only a facade created by pain.

“I’m not saying it to hurt you,” he responded, arching an eyebrow. “I’m stating a fact.”

“Whatever you say, you are not moving from this house until you disappear,” he threw back to him, making the other hiss.

“I will conquer this body and once I do, I’ll destroy you and the pathetic soul you love,” Win responded, his venomous words striking directly to Hongjoong’s heart. “You don’t think I know? We share this useful body. You love Wooyoung and the pathetic loves you too, but it won’t last, because his true love is the one I love and I will never, ever tell you where he is.”

“It doesn’t matter because Wooyoung doesn’t remember,” he spitted back at him, making Win crazier than he already was. The latter stood up and took Hongjoong by his neck, their faces very close to each other.

“But I do,” he whispered with a smirk. “And I’m stronger. Wooyoung is a fucking cockroach and that is exactly why he deserves to die. But of course, if he does I am gone too, that’s why I need to conquer first and no one will stop me. Not even the pathetic Will.”

“Will only wants to end his life," said Hongjoong trying to breath. He wasn't trying to make him angrier. He was simply trying to get Wooyoung back.

And it worked.

Win brutally ended the assault, coughing desperately. He fell on the floor, his breathing completely agitated. He hit the floor several times, trying to remain in control but the motherfucker was stronger. He couldn't fight against him and he hated it. He wanted to destroy Wooyoung.

"I HATE YOU!" he screamed for the last time before he lost consciousness of time.

A couple of hours later, he woke up, noticing there was no one around him. He bitterly smiled to himself, straightly going to the first cabinet of his nightstand. He took his glasses out and went straight for the bathtub. He closed the door from the inside and opened the toilet basket. Hidden between the pump and the flusher, laid a very sharp knife he saved for himself. He was sneaky and he was prepared because it wasn't often that he came out.

He opened the tab and let the water come out. It was extremely cold, but he liked it that way. He liked the pressure it felt against his vulnerable skin. He liked the way it numbed every piece it touched. How could a simple thing like water have this kind of effect? It fascinated him to this day.

He should have done more research, but it was okay.

It didn't matter, just like his life.

He decided to succumb his entire body inside, numbing most of his skin. He loved the feeling, he enjoyed the pain. He wanted for this moment to last forever.

But he shared a body.

And that’s was his main reason for wanting to leave. He wanted to end it. He knew Wooyoung would want it too.

“What’s the point of living, anyway?” he asked himself, the blade near his veins. “There is no purpose. Life is just a plain illusion that should not exist.”

“WILL!” he heard a person calling him but it was too late, the blood was already slowly covering the water, which was still running and falling in chunks to the floor.

Not like he cared.

He halfway smiled and closed his eyes, the desperate cries of the stranger and the door banging fading away.


	4. Dissociate

When Wooyoung opened his eyes, the bright white covered his orbs. He was confused for a few seconds, but then he felt a sting on both of his hands. He tried to accommodate himself, but he wasn’t able to. 

That’s when he realized something bad must have happened.

His feet were tied up.

He sighed, not hearing the door suddenly opening. He felt some rush steps coming towards him, but he didn’t know who it was until he spoke.

“Woo,” it sounded like breaking hearts. “There are articles… there are articles everywhere about your suicide attempt…” 

Wooyoung bit his lips, preventing the tears from coming out. He knew the stigma of mental illness in this country. He knew how much it would ruin his writing career and how much people will begin to point at him. 

People think that he is perfect, but he’s far from that. He has never been and he will never be. But just because he is famous and has money, they think that it is everything. He wanted to scream how much he would rather be a normal person with a normal job and be healthy than having to deal with his demons. 

And for the first time in years, he wished Jun would have succeeded. 

“Your manager and a representative from your publishing company will come,” was all he could say before the door was suddenly opened. Wooyoung simply closed his eyes and let out a big sigh, feeling a person leaving the room while the newcomers stayed.

“Wooyoung,” he heard one person say while grabbing his hand. His voice sounded worried and it was legit. His manager always worried for him, but he wasn’t sure the publisher would. Perhaps a lie would come out, but he had no time to judge.

There were enough judgments in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have done something, anything, to prevent this from happening,” his voice sounded tired and teary. He must have been dealing with the press and overall situations around him. Wooyoung felt guilty, he really did, but there was nothing he could do.

There was nothing anyone could do to make his illness disappear. It wasn’t that easy. He didn’t even know if there was a cure. 

“But, I won’t be like other people,” tried to comfort him the manager. “I won’t judge you. I just want you to be okay.”

“Intern me,” softly said the writer, surprising both persons inside the room. “I did it once. I’ll try to do it again. I’m a danger to people and I won’t be able to hide it anymore. Hongjoong can’t help me to clean the mess everyday, neither can both of you. It’s already out, it’s better if you just admit me to a psych ward. They’ll do it anyway because I harmed myself…” 

“Are you sure?” carefully asked the manager, the tears falling from her face.

“Yes,” said Wooyoung, convinced this was the best decision he could do for the sake of himself and others around him. “Let everything calm down and release those books whenever you think it is appropriate. After all, we have material to last us at least two years, right?” 

“You are not thinking of staying two years, please…” she pleaded and he bitterly smiled.

“No, but I think a couple of months will help me,” he replied. He did not want to scare her or discourage her, but he was thinking of staying as much as he could. If he was honest with himself, he would have rather stay, but he wasn’t okay. He needed help and his personality was trying to overcome him. He needed a professional and this was his wake-up call.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but his life was never easy, to begin with.

“If it’s for your sanity, let’s do it,” said the manager, wiping the tears out of her face. “I love you, Wooyoung. I have been with you for ten years. I have watched you grow and I might not know everything about you, but I have faith. No matter what other people say, I have faith.” 

The writer felt the first tear falling from his eyes, nodding a little bit after.

He needed to get better, not because he wanted to keep writing, but because he wanted to live.

He desperately wanted to live.

+++

Yunho was sitting down in his office - which he nearly never used unless it was mandatory, like the sudden meeting he was having. He had two of his best psychiatrists - San and Narae and their assistants along with some confidential nurses as well. They were having a discussion with the owner of the ward and his assistants, who dealt with cases similar to the one they were about to have.

To this date, they still didn’t know all of the details.

“I’ll be concise and clear,” began the ward owner, looking at everyone at the rounded table. He was in his 60s - but he knew a lot. He was a former psychiatric, one of the best in South Korea. He has dealt with high-profiling cases and has traveled the world offering classes, modules, and workshops to support wards and decrease the stigma most of them still have to this date. “We have a celebrity that tried to commit suicide. I’m sure that if you watch the news, you saw the name.” 

“Jung Wooyoung?” asked one of the nurses, most of the room gasping except for San and Yunho. The first one really did not know who he was and the second one knew, but he was the director of the ward, he was professional before anything. Yes, he was surprised but it has not been the first one that has passed through his hands. 

He would treat him like he treated any of his patients.

“Yes,” admitted the ward psychiatrist. “I called most of you because you are the most trustworthy psychiatrists I have. I am confident that you will handle a case like this and I request absolute discretion. Failure to do so will result in your license to be revoked. I want to remind all of you that even though he is a celebrity, he is a human. We all have our problems. He will be taken care of just like any other patient and no special treatment will be given to him.” 

“We will sign a confidentiality contract and a waiver for the publishing company. This is usual and it is nothing to worry about if you do your job properly,” he said while handing out the paperwork to everyone in the office. “They asked me for him to be treated with my best staff and you guys are the best I have. I have not read the entire medical story but for me, it was enough to make this decision,” he said while handing the papers to Yunho. “I suggest Dr. Choi, Dr. Jung and Dr. Lee to read it and then discuss whatever you think is appropriate with the rest of the staff. I do not want you to be kept out of the light and I’m sure they will be able to handle it, but this is in order to protect the patient, just like any other.” 

The nurses and assistants nodded.

“I’ll come back tomorrow for further information, everyone dismissed,” were his final words before he left the meeting room with half of the staff, leaving the doctors with the file on hand.

Yunho looked at it, not knowing where or how to begin. He had to admit he was nervous - he enjoyed the challenge, but it was like swimming in ice. There was nothing.

“Well, let’s begin,” was all the doctor said, the other two sitting down while he opened the file.

“Jung Wooyoung, 33 years old,” he began to say but paused when he saw the first words of the diagnostic.

“DID?” he questioned himself, arching an eyebrow. “Dissociative identity disorder…”

He has never had a case of DID before and he has been here for years.

“Have any of you dealt with a case like this before?” he asked, but neither nodded.

“This is going to be interesting,” he said mostly to himself, continuing to share the key points of the expedient.


	5. Hell

Wooyoung was sitting in the exam room. They were going to take some samples to make sure he was physically healthy before doing anything else. He was already halfway done with his entrance exam and it was a matter of a couple of hours before he would be enclosed for a couple of months. He wasn’t ready, but it had to be done. This was his only exit and he wished neither of his personalities came out during this period of time.

Especially Win.

He was the most dangerous one of all.

He decided to close his eyes, trying to relax. He knew he was stressed out, but nothing would help. He couldn’t calm down. He wasn’t in control of the situation and he loathed it. That’s why he wanted more heavy treatment. He has always liked to be in control, but he doesn’t know what that means anymore. Ever since they appeared, he hasn’t lived in peace and it became worse when he became a famous author.

He should give credit to himself. He has coped with them all of these years…

The writer sighed again, watching one of the nurses walking towards him.

“The results were submitted and they should be out in a couple of hours,” she announced with a small smile on her face. “Meanwhile, you will be kept in another room. If we determine that you are dangerous to yourself, then we will place you alone,” she continued to explain, trying to not scare the writer more than he was. “Even though we know who you are and why you are here for, we do not believe in confinement. We believe in therapy and it will be good for you to relate with other people who are struggling just like you are.”

Wooyoung sighed in relief.

He knew he was very misinformed, but he also knew that some facilities did have scary white bedrooms with padded walls. He would try his best to never get into one of those. At least, he was well-aware and he hoped to change.

The writer hoped for a cure or at least a way to control his personality. He didn’t want to give up. He wanted to keep living, but he wanted to leave at peace. They were taking the best of him when he should be the one controlling them. They were getting out of control.

“I will introduce you to your primary doctors,” said the nurse, watching the three of them entering the room at once.

San froze.

It was that guy… the same guy that has been engraved in his mind ever since.

“Hello,” smiled Yunho followed by a small bow to the patient. Wooyoung did the same in return.

“I’m the Director, Dr. Jung Yunho,” he introduced himself, waiting for the other to talk.

“I’m a best-seller writer, Jung Wooyoung,” he answered, earning a small chuckle from the doctors’. There was one that was very silent with lost eyes and it reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t deduct where he has met the man.

“I won’t be in complete charge of you, but these two will,” he signaled the other two doctors. “I will be there in case they need anything and to be vigilant towards everyone to make sure they comply with the orders we were given.”

Wooyoung nodded.

“My name is Dr. Lee Nari,” introduced herself to the psychiatrist while doing a bow to him. “I’ll take care of you.”

The writer directed his eyes to the last doctor, their eyes connecting to each other. He felt a small electric wave covering his back and he didn’t know if it was a good or bad signal.

He sincerely wished it was good.

While the other didn’t like it. San didn’t like the way his heart jumped or how his head started to suddenly hurt. However, he couldn’t give any excuses. He has only bumped into the man twice; he has never met him before that. He had to continue with the treatment and he had to try and be professional.

“My name is Dr. Choi San,” were his only words, giving a small bow to the writer and receiving one in return.

“Dr. Choi San will be your main primary doctor,” explained Yunho. “But both of them will be at your disposition. We do expect you to follow our facility rules,” he continued. “We will try our best to maintain secrecy and to provide you an excellent service.”

“Please, take care of me,” said Wooyoung, doing a 90-degree bow, and Yunho smiled.

He truly wanted to find peace.

+++

Wooyoung was in the interview room alone with San. From the Director’s explanation, they wanted to know what he knew about his personalities. They have read his entire medical record, but it would be better if the writer explained. After all, he was the one being controlled and the one who knew the most about them. For the writer, it seemed like a good idea since doctors went for the reasoning part and he was all about feelings.

Those were the ones who have kept him company ever since he has been transforming. They have never left him; not even once.

“Tell me a bit more about them,” was San’s first question. His legs were crossed and his iPad was on top of his lap. He was ready to take notes.

“I have four,” he began, his eyes becoming watery. It has always been difficult for him to say or admit he had a mental illness and that he needed treatment. No matter how many professionals Hongjoong wanted him to see, he only opened to one that kept a record of all he was suffering. But he stopped seeing him, thinking it would get better on its own.

How wrong he was.

“One is named Will,” he began to explain, watching San’s fingers move through the iPad. “He is the suicidal one. He has only one purpose in this life and it’s to take his own life,” he sighed. “He is the one that mostly comes out. Since I’m a writer and I tend to overthink, he takes advantage of it and tries to end our lives.”

“What type of genre do you write?” inquired the doctor, their eyes connecting once again.

San stood without changing, but inside he was a turmoil.

He didn’t know what was happening.

“Drama, angst, and romance,” answered the writer, his stomach fumbling. “It never has a happy ending.”

“Why?” asked the doctor, not expecting that answer from the other.

“Because I don’t deserve it,” confessed the patient, the first tear falling from his eyes. “I have always been doomed. I was born to fail.”

“But you haven’t,” replied the doctor, their eyes still locked. “You just need a little push. We all do.”

“Even you?” he asked, not knowing if it was appropriate or not, but he felt like he needed to.

“Even me,” admitted San, a slight smile appearing at the corner of his lips.

“Young would like to hear that,” said the writer, a small chuckle coming out from his mouth. “He’s the optimistic one. He wants to live, somewhat the most similar personality to my common self, but he’s obsessed with beautiful people. He sees someone he likes and wants to just do… stupid things,” he explained, blushing afterward.

“Stupid things like…?” asked San, earning a timid look from his patient.

“Kissing?”

San laughed. “Well, that’s not stupid but pretty common. He seems very straightforward.”

“He is,” he continued talking. “He’s everything I won’t dare to be. He’s logical, full of life, and passionate. He doesn’t come out often, just when I have a strong will to live or when Will almost succeeds. I don’t recall the after events of each of my personalities, but guessing by Hongjoong tells me and my previous doctor told me, he has come out only 4 times. Those 4 times have been the same time Will almost succeeded with his suicide attempt.”

“Maybe we could learn two or three things about him,” said San, checking that everything Wooyoung said was written on his iPad.

“The third one would be Wonu,” he began to say, trying to explain how he comes out. “He is very lonely and melancholic. He likes to stare at windows and horizons, he may also throw fits if he doesn’t feel comfortable. He typically comes out before Will comes out. He overthinks everything and is very cautious of his surroundings, but he loves the most. He holds the most pain inside.”

“Why?” asked San, intrigued by his answer.

“I don’t know,” sincerely answered Wooyoung followed by a sigh. “Hongjoong has told me he is seeking someone he loves, but he has never said his or her name. It’s confusing.”

“So, you don’t even know if it’s a male or a female?”

“Nope,” he replied. “I just know he is looking for that person, that’s why he is always staring at the windows.”

San was kind of surprised. He didn’t know personalities could love as strongly as a common person. He knew they were part of a simple split and they shared the same body, but it was quite fascinating knowing the fact that deep inside that mind of Wooyoung, he loved someone he didn’t even know about.

“The last one is Win,” said Wooyoung, his trembling hands playing with each other, and San stopped typing for a bit, trying to remain as calm as possible.

Win.

That name haunted him day and night.

“He is the most dangerous one,” he began to explain. “And he is the one trying to control me the most. Every entity is different and they all want to be me, but no one has dared to do so like him. He has the most hate and anguish in his heart. It seems like he has the key to what we have been looking for, but he hates psychiatrists and psychologists with all his might. He tried to kill one once and it was a pain to occult it because it was done with my body and me being famous, added more fire to the wood.”

“You are telling me to be extremely careful around him and to everything in our power to subdue him, correct?” asked San, their eyes connecting for the last time.

“Yes,” sadly replied Wooyoung. “If you have to knock him out, pin him down, or any other forceful method to control him, do it. He doesn’t hesitate to harm. I can’t control him… and that is what hurts me the most.”

“He is the one who was made my life hell."


End file.
